


Majo no shūkai

by Sora22302 (greatgirl22302)



Category: Majo no Takkyuubin | Kiki's Delivery Service, Mary to Majo no Hana | Mary and the Witch's Flower
Genre: Crossover, F/F, F/M, Kiki's delivery service - Freeform, Majo no shūkai, Mary and the Witch's Flower, School, canondiverge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatgirl22302/pseuds/Sora22302
Summary: When the flower seeds were stolen, Charlotte disappeared. Years later, Mary instead moves in with a different relative in a seaside town, where she meets a young witch named Kiki.From there, everything goes wrong.





	1. Prologue: Loss

**Author's Note:**

> So I went to see Mary and the Witch’s Flower and I really enjoyed it. I won’t say it had no problems, but I definitely had an idea for a fanfiction, so here we are. Particularly, a crossover with Kiki’s delivery service.
> 
> Do NOT read this if you haven't seen it. Spoilers everywhere.
> 
> As you’ll see in the coming chapters, Mary is a bit older than in the movie(barely), and because she had some different experiences she’s going to be a bit more mature. She’s still got a playful side, but she’s currently got a nice protective shell on. I just thought I’d clarify that her personality will go through changes before you go running for the hills.
> 
> Oh, and I promise no actual romance until people are older. Right now, just fluff.

Prologue: Loss

The night sky exploded behind her.

Charlotte guided her broom faster, dipping low both to avoid the magical disaster behind her and to head for the tree line. Tears stung at her eyes as she thought about all that she’d caused, but she didn’t dare think on it now. Now, she had to get away, get the seeds away, before anything else happened.

Before anything else was destroyed.

Before any _one_ else was destroyed.

She let out a gasp as the sky brightened behind her, and her head swivelled around to see that the blue glow of magic had erupted into flames, consuming a large corner of the campus and eating away at her pursuers.

Still, she couldn’t head home, not right now. It wasn’t safe.

She leaned in close to the broomstick, making herself as small and fast as possible, and clinging tightly to the drawstring bag in her grasp.

But the sound of yet another explosion was accompanied by a rush of air that twisted her and the broom around and around. She kept her grip as they spun in circles, but they were too close to the forest below. The brush of her broom collided with the top of the tree and jerked sideways as it caught.

It was torn from her grasp and she went falling to the earth.

_No, not yet!_ She couldn’t die now, couldn’t let the seeds cause more destruction. If no one were there to protect it, even if it took years, they’d find them again. _I have to do something!_ She pulled the bag protectively to her chest, feeling the seeds inside. It wasn’t the flower in bloom, but maybe, maybe the seeds could give her enough strength to get away.

She murmured a spell to temporarily boost her energy, again and again, but nothing was happening and the ground was coming to meet her, she was barely feet away. There was no way she’d make it.

Crying out in deep frustration, she concentrated all of the magic she could feel inside of her, screaming into the air, _“Protect!”_

A torrent of blue surrounded the bag, a strong barrier that would hold until she released it, and that time would never come.

Knowing her job and her time were finished, the tears at last spilled from her eyes. “I’m sorry…” All of her energy spent, she closed her eyes, glad she wouldn’t feel the impact.

The last thing she saw was her broom attempting to get to her in time, illuminated by the glow of her magic. _I’m sorry….._

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Someplace far from the school, a little girl with copper colored hair was startled out of her dreams. She took a deep breath and glanced around the room as though searching for the demons that had hunted her in her dreams. 

The room was empty, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Somehow, she felt that something was very, very wrong. She rose and went to her window, looking out into the night sky. There was nothing there, either. A clear and vast expanse dotted by stars.

_I’m sorry…._

The girl jumped, startled less by the voice itself, but more because she’d been so sure that the wrong feeling was because the owner of that voice wasn’t home.

“Charlotte…?”

But the girl didn’t hear anything from her after that.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Mary Smith did not consider herself very special, and she did not consider herself very beautiful. She had a very plain, round face that was framed by very uncontrollable red hair. She was told often that her blue orbs were very pretty-that was what people chose to comment on most-but where she was from, blue eyes were very ordinary.

She was only ten-turning eleven quite soon-but she considered herself to be mature for her age. She knew that adults did important and significant things, and that it felt good when she could take part in helping them out. 

When she was young, only just barely learning what to do and when she should do it, she asked her father why he was always running around and never had time to sit and play with her. “I’m busy, dear.” He’d been ready to leave it at that, but when it had been clear to him that she was not ready to let it go, he stopped in the middle of his hectic schedule and knelt at her level. “When you get older, you start to get responsibilities. Do you know what responsibilities are?”

Mary had given a shake of her head.

Her father took a breath. “A responsibility is...something you are expected to do. For you, it might be brushing your hair in the morning-which you might have skipped today-” He paused there as he ruffled her already thick hair, and Mary had given him a child like pout that told she had, in fact, skipped that particular chore. Her head was sensitive, and the brush pulled too hard and never got anything out anyway. “But,” he continued, “Just because you didn’t brush your hair, doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to get done.”

“It doesn’t?”

“No.” He scooped her up in his arms and brought her to a mirror hanging along the upper half of the hallway. Mary scowled at the sight of her bedhead, because it was even worse than what she’d expected. Her father looked at their reflection, and he said, “When you brush your hair on your own, you save time from someone else. Everyone has their own hair to brush, and their own clothes to put on, and when you don’t take care of yours, someone does it for you.”

It was true. Mary’s hair was best handled by her mother, who, despite being busy as well, always took the time to help her look nice. She was one of the few who could brush through her hair without pulling a bunch of strands out with it. “And when someone has to take care of your responsibilities-the things you can, and should take care of on your own-that means they have less time to take care of their own.”

Mary didn’t understand. Even when she did fight through her hair, it didn’t take all day. “But my hair isn’t so bad. It doesn’t take long to do.”  
Mary had meant to argue that it wouldn’t make her mother much busier, but she hadn’t realized she’d actually argued against her point. Her father gave her a kind smile. “You’re absolutely right, Mary. But as children grow up, they get more and more task’s, and they might take longer or be harder to do. And when you become an adult-like your mother and I-you have so many expectations placed on you that anything else can take away the little free time we have.”

“But if you were to brush your own hair and get ready for the day, everyday, the time we spend helping you get ready could be spent at the park instead. Do you understand?”

Mary was beginning to see what her father was saying. But… “But I don’t _like_ brushing my hair.”

Her father nodded in understanding. “That’s okay. You don’t have to enjoy doing what you have to. You do what you have to so you can enjoy the time you have when you’re finished.”

“You don’t like doing your hair either?”

He laughed heartily, and kissed her forehead. “There will always be things you don’t enjoy doing, but if it’s something you don’t enjoy, you shouldn’t want someone else to have to go through it.”

Mary frowned deeply. “ _No one_ likes my hair…?”

He shook his head. “Everyone loves your hair. But remember what I said-we all have things we have to do. What if, besides your hair, you had to brush my hair, and your mother’s hair, and your aunt’s, too?”

“Everyday?”

“Everyday.”

This time Mary shook her head. “I wouldn’t have any time to play!”

He nodded. “Now you’re getting it.” He held her for a moment longer before glancing at his watch. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he set her down. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you tonight.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The morning after that conversation, Mary frowned at her reflection as she thought over what he’d said. She wasn’t sure she understood _everything_...but it seemed like something good would happen if she gave it a try.

She grabbed her brush and brought it to the top of her head, only to groan when it got stuck before it had even gone passed her ears.

She spent more time than she wanted getting ready for the day, all on her own. She managed to make her hair presentable-though still not as pretty as her mother made it-and she put on the clothes that her mother had set aside for her the day before. And just in case, even though her father hadn’t mentioned it, she set her nightclothes in the bin next to her door, where her parents always put them after she’d worn them.

When her mother came in to wake her, she’d nearly fainted from shock.

Mary gave her mother the brightest smile when she’d opened the door, proud to present what she’d accomplished. But the surprise on her parent’s face caused it to slip a little, because it wasn’t the reaction she was expecting, and maybe she hadn’t done well.

And yet, after only a few seconds more, her mother gave her a dazzling smile of her own, and she came to her and gave her a hug around her shoulders. When she pulled back, she looked Mary in the eyes and said, “Good job.”

Mary felt a joy blossom in her chest at the praise, and she remained floating on a cloud through the rest of the day. Her mother took her to a spot in town to eat breakfast, because they were both up and ready early. And because she didn’t have to cook breakfast, she had a little more time to spend playing with her before she had to go to work herself.

All in all, Mary decided it was a wonderful day.

And so she decided she would try it again the next day.

And the day after that.

And when it became normal for Mary to do this all on her own, she was disappointed to find that the praise she’d come to expect stopped being delivered. She decided if she stopped for a day, it would remind her family that she was doing quite a lot.

But when she left her hair a mess and came downstairs in her nightgown, she was given a lecture instead. They didn’t understand why she’d been doing so well only to backtrack. She went back to behaving the following day, but even after that the praise didn’t come. But, later that morning, her father accidentally knocked into a shelf by the doorframe on his way to work, but he’d slept in and was very late.

Because of this, he didn’t even turn to see if he’d knocked any books from it. Mary witnessed the entire thing, and, being the considerate girl she was, didn’t want her father to come home and trip over them. So she picked up the items and put them back. Her mother came in and helped her, and when they were finished, she was praised for that.

It didn’t take Mary long to realize the more she did the more praise she got, and the better she felt for helping them. And so she did all she could. She picked up her toys and put them away when she was done, and she made sure she didn’t get strawberry jam all over the table at breakfast time. When she reached school age, she put everything in her bag at night so they weren’t hurrying in the morning, or looking for items she dropped.

And when it seemed the little things were no longer enough to garner praise, she asked to help with other things.

But the bigger things didn’t work out very well.

When she was eight she asked to be taught how to do the laundry. She listened closely to her instructions, watched intensely as her parents did a few loads to demonstrate. But when the time came for her to do it herself, she thought that the reason their loads were so small had a lot to do with saving some to teach her with. But, since she knew how to do it, it would be much faster to do all at once.

She started everything she could stuff into the washer and started it before going back to her room to play for a while before it would be time to switch them.

When she heard her father cursing she came to see what was wrong.

It was hard to believe she’d done something wrong, but the evidence was in the bubble coated floor.

When she was nine her mother had a bad cold, and her father decided to stay home to take care of her. She watched him put a warm rag over her forehead and tuck her in, the same way he would when Mary was sick. Mary knew when she was sick, mother tried to do something extra special for her to cheer her up. She asked her father what she could do now that it was the other way around, and her father suggested she bring her a nice yellow flower to brighten the room, since her mother was stuck in bed all day.

Mary went outside and walked to the flowerbed. It was a large section of the yard that extended nearly a foot from the house and was bordered by a small white trim that reminded Mary a lot of their own fence. She expected if she set a dollhouse inside a fairy would likely find it to be a very nice home. The plants were in full bloom, painting the front of their house in color. Mary stared at only the yellow flowers for a long time. Yellow was her mother’s favorite color, and she wanted to pick the best one for her. 

In the end, she couldn’t decide because she thought they were all rather pretty. But that was okay because she had an idea. If one flower would cheer her up, a lot of flowers would be even better. So Mary carefully picked all of the yellow blooms she could find and arranged them into the best bouquet she could muster, securing it with a ribbon from her hair. Satisfied, she brought them up to her mother’s room and was pleased to find she was just waking. She smiled happily and presented them.

Her mother cried.

On her tenth birthday Mary asked if she could help her mother get ready for her party later in the day. Her mother asked to her to set a few things out on the inside table from the fridge while she started setting up outside. Her mother had planned out the party month’s before her actual birthday, and had invited all of her classmates to come.

Her school was rather large, as was her class, so the kitchen table was seeing use as a place to grab food, but the real party was outside, where a large table was being put together along with the colorful decorations. Her mother was arguably more excited than Mary herself, but was clearly trying to get too much done in too little time.

When Mary finished what she was asked to do, she looked around to see if there was anything else that needed done. What she found was that her mother had set a pot of food on the stove, but had forgotten to start it! She’d never used the stove before, but she’d seen her mother start it countless times, and she didn’t want the food to be undercooked when the guests arrived. She turned the knob up to high just as her mother called for her to help her outside.

The party never happened.

It was anyone’s guess as to what caught on the burner, but the kitchen had been left unattended, and the burner did its job. The kitchen wasn’t just in disrepair, it was nearly ready to collapse before the firemen arrived, even with her father using the small extinguisher they had for such cases.

It was a somber birthday.

The week after when she returned to school was worse, and she returned home halfway through the day, the whispers causing her guilt to swell more than it already had. She’d just wanted everything to be extra special. Extra memorable.

At this point, she’d really started to wonder what good she was doing.

She wasn’t a somber girl by nature, but the months following that were difficult. It was hard to get over the damage she’d caused when she’d come home and see the wreckage every single day, and see her parents working longer and quietly murmuring about prices when they thought she couldn’t hear.

When it was decided that repairing the kitchen was going to cost more than it was worth, her parents decided to move. They wanted to get a smaller place a few towns over. Mary wasn’t shown a picture of it, but they said it was enough space for all three of them, at least after they’d converted the garage into another bedroom. They told her they would make it pretty when they had time and maybe add to it when they had the funds. They were really trying to convince her it was for the best. 

Mary didn’t want to move out of the only house she’d ever known, but she didn’t voice her opinion. She didn’t tell them that she wanted to stay and she wanted to help fix the mess she’d made and that she wanted to be useful.

Because that’s what had put them all in such a bad situation.

And when-even as they were packing-they suggested that, maybe, she’d like to go stay with her aunt while they fixed up the new place, Mary didn’t tell them that she didn’t want to move hours and hours away from her family. 

Because her parents probably thought it would be easier to fix without her helping.

And she didn’t say anything when they said how long she might stay there, and how she might need to start school there.

Because in the end, this was just another responsibility. And with responsibilities, sometimes she had to do things even when she didn’t want to.


	2. New Friends

Chapter 1: New friends

Aunt Anne was actually Mary’s great-aunt. Anne was what Mary considered ancient. She was so wrinkled that Mary often wondered how she could see, or if she had just learned to sense where everything was as bats did. She wore shawls and gaudy floral print, and to Mary, she landed somewhere between looking like the kindly old grandma or the wicked witch in storybook terms.

The old woman was not unkind, but she always had a sour look to her face as if she were perpetually upset. She once asked her parents why Aunt Anne was always so quiet and never wanted to play with her when she would visit. “Is it because she’s old? Can old people not play games anymore?” She’d asked with the innocence of a child, and her mother laughed lightly before becoming very serious.

“Your aunt has been through a lot. She’s been around a long time, and every year brings new experiences. Sometimes, those experiences can weigh you down. That’s why it’s so important to have so many people you care about.”

“So she can’t play because she’s too heavy? What can other people do?”

“Well,” her mother started, “when you tell other people about the things that are weighing you down...it might not make it go away, but sharing the weight always makes it feel lighter.”

Mary didn’t know how to share weight, and if her aunt was really so heavy, she thought that trying might squish her. Though, that didn’t stop her from trying to play with her when she came to visit.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The day Mary moved in with her aunt was the first time she’d come to visit her house, or even her town. 

Mary had grown up in a suburban area, with the houses just the right distance from each other. It was enough let you know you weren’t alone, and to let you have plenty of privacy, should you want it. The house she had grown up in was large, especially for three people, but it served well for family functions and parties, all of which her mother loved to host.

And that was why, when she arrived in the bustling town where her aunt resided, she felt very, very crowded.

She had arrived by boat, and the busy docks only reaffirmed that she was in fact very, very far from home.

With a large bag over her shoulder-the few things she decided needed to move with her-she moved to the quietest area she could find and looked once more at a piece of paper with her aunt’s address written on it, with some general directions underneath.

Her family had asked her aunt to come pick her up by the docks when they’d last spoken, but she insisted that she could manage on her own. And when her parents mentioned that she was only a young girl, she reminded them that her birthday was only a month away, and that she had an excellent sense of direction. It was no different than letting her walk home from school, and she’d have to find her way around the town if she was going to be living in it.

Eventually her parents had given in, and that was how Mary found herself attempting to read the street signs while weaving through the overflowing sidewalks.

Though it was hard to pay attention to much besides her own feet, she did notice that the town was built in a way very different from her own. While her hometown had mostly flat land and small hills that were avoided when building, this town had bumps and curves as the very foundation. The streets would twist and turn, and bridges would lead over the roads and toward higher landings. It was almost as though it had multiple stories, like a big house. Though, with so many people, that likely had so be the case. She couldn’t imagine trying to fit everyone on ground level.

When she climbed a small brick staircase she was pleased to find that she had much more room, and decided the roads below must be the main streets. She stopped to rest a moment. She hadn’t gone far, but brushing through people was much more difficult than she had anticipated.

Leaning against the brick border of a bridge built only big enough for people, she at last got a good look at the town. The ocean was to her right, and in front of her, though some distance away, was a clearing that was likely the town square. It was marked as important by the tallest clock tower Mary had ever seen! Though...it was also the only one she’d seen, unless their grandfather clock was taken into account.

And to her left, the direction she was meant to be going, there was a line of a few scattered shops that looked more like what she would see normally. From there it split in multiple directions, back behind the first line of shops were a few more small places before turning into neighborhood streets. That was where she was meant to go, but she took note that to one side was another neighborhood with large, very nice houses, and that the other side led to a winding road that seemed to curve down to a large clearing.

Several streets later, Mary climbed another small staircase and found herself in front of a bakery. She looked down at her paper and frowned as she realized there was no bakery mentioned, and she should have arrived by now.

It seemed her sense of direction wasn’t as great as she thought.

She approached the bakery window and because it wasn’t busy, decided she should go ahead and ask for directions. On her way to the door she stopped and glanced back at the window.

Hanging inside was a wreath, made of-or made to look like-bread. But what was strange was that it featured a girl on a broomstick. A witch so close to summer? It was strange, that was for sure.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Osono was wiping down her front counter as she waited for customers. It was getting late, and the ovens were off for the night, but several of the Good Cooking Pan Bakery’s items were still waiting to be sold.

The door chimed as a young girl entered the bakery, and Osono looked over with a smile. “Hiya,” Osono waited until the girl faced her and continued. “I haven’t seen you before. Is this your first time coming by?”

The girl couldn’t be any older than Kiki, standing just a little shorter than the new witch. She was wearing a simple white button up shirt with a navy skirt, but the real eye catcher was her hair. It was pulled into two low pigtails by navy ribbon and rested on her back, but Osono could tell how thick it was even from a distance and wondered just how she’d managed to wrestle it into such a pretty state. But, more importantly, it was a bright red color the exact same shade as her own.

In fact, if her eyes were a different color, she was certain the girl would be mistaken as her daughter. Osono brightened as she realized she now had an image of what her future child could end up looking like.

And by the way the child’s eyes drifted to Osono’s hair, she was almost certain she’d made a similar connection.

The girl gave her a polite, and possibly sheepish smile as she spoke. “Um, I’m sorry for bothering you so late.” Osono watched as the girl’s eyes found the rack of sweets, and her face held a new light as all children did in the face of sugar.

Osono smiled widely at her. “You aren’t a bother at all. What can I get for you?” She gestured at the baked goods.

“Oh. I’m sorry, but I was just hoping to get some directions….I think I’m a little lost.” The sheepish expression explained now, Osono looked at her again. There was something a little too sad about this girl.

Osono gave a shake of her head. “Oh, don’t worry. Where are you trying to get to?”

Wordlessly, the girl gave her a slip of paper with slightly messy handwriting scrawled across it. Osono read the note and gave a soft hm. “It’s a bit farther from here. You know, the lady that lives there turns in pretty early. Will you be alright?”

The girl nodded again. “She should be expecting me.”

Osono nodded slowly in return. She would rather escort her there, but going out that far with her pregnancy just wasn’t going to go well. She wrote down some quick revisions to the directions on the paper and explained them to her out loud. When she finished, she held out a hand to her. “I’m Osono. Come by sometime, alright?”

The girl gave her a more realistic smile and nodded. “I’m Mary. I’ll be staying with my aunt for awhile.”

They gave a light handshake. “I’d like to talk to you more, but it’s getting pretty late. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Mary waved a bit as she turned toward the door. “I’ll be okay. Thank you, Miss Osono.” She was out the door before Osono thought to correct her on her title. Seems like she wasn’t a very good wife.

She watched the young girl from the window and wondered if she’d really find her way.

“Ah!” Osono suddenly had an idea strike, and she went to the back door and poked her head outside. “Kiki?” She called, “Are you still awake?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Kiki wasn’t surprised to be called down and asked to take care of a delivery. She was, however, very surprised to find she wouldn’t be given a package to deliver. “You want me to deliver a _person_?”

Osono laughed at the statement and started putting a few things into a brown paper sack. “Oh, if you want to see it that way.” She rolled the top of the bag and put it into her hands. “Or you could see it as delivering these to the old lady that lives there...while also keeping an eye out for the little girl trying to get there. Besides, she’s new here and seems about your age. Maybe you’ll make a friend.”

Kiki flushed a bit. “I don’t need help making friends, Osono.” She spoke stubbornly but with no malice. She really did appreciate everything Osono was doing for her, but she didn’t need help on that account. She’d make friends on her own. Probably. And if not….well, the adults she’d met had all been nice.

“I know you don’t, Kiki. But she might. You know how hard it is to start fresh.”

“Yeah…” Kiki thought about her first day in town and nodded resolutely. “Okay, I’ll talk to her.”

Osono nodded like she expected nothing less and tapped her on the back. “Go on then, before she gets too far away.”

“Wha-wait, what does she look like?”

She laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, you can’t miss her.”

Kiki didn’t understand how she was supposed to find someone she’d never met with nothing other than the knowledge they were heading in the same direction, but she let Osono usher her out anyway.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mary was walking alone toward her aunt’s house-desperately trying to read the directions by moonlight-when a shadow passed overhead and blocked it out completely for several seconds. When at last it allowed for light she glanced up to see what huge bird had come by, only to see that it was not a bird at all.

It was a girl.

On a broomstick.

It didn’t take her more than a few seconds to process that this girl and the bakery were connected, because it was now obvious that the window decoration had been meant to depict her. And Mary stared in wide eyed wonder as the girl lowered herself to the ground before her. 

Every thought and worry were completely thrown out of her mind as she tried to take in that, this girl before her, was real.

A real life witch.

Mary had to consciously force her dropped jaw back into place before she looked ridiculous. The dark haired witch looked her way, and Mary noticed a brown bag in her arms. “You wouldn’t happen to be Mary, would you?”  
Mary was startled. “Y-yes.” A witch was looking for her?

The young witch smiled at her. “Osono said you could use some help finding your way home.”

“She did? I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t trouble you. I think I’m heading the right way.”

The witch nodded. “Mmhm, you are heading in the right direction, but if you don’t mind, I’ll walk with you.” She held up the bag. “I’m heading that way anyway.”

Mary started to nod, but paused halfway through it. “But...wouldn’t it be easier to fly there?” She asked cautiously, because she wasn’t really sure what would offend a witch.

“Not exactly...I can fly close to it, but that street has a lot of trees that are pretty close together. It’d be kinda hard to land.”

Mary nodded slowly as she looked at the broom the girl held. It was tall. Taller than the witch, and much taller than Mary. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to sweep with the broom, she wouldn’t even dream of how hard it would be to land it.

Or fly it.

When her eyes moved back to the slightly taller girl, she noticed she was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. “Um….were you just wanting to see me fly?”

Mary could feel her cheeks warm up, and she shook her head vigorously. “No, no, that’s okay! I just saw you get here and I’ve never seen a witch before.”

“A lot of the people in this town haven’t. It seems like I’m the only one in this area...Oh! My name is Kiki. I should have started with that.” Mary nodded, but didn’t introduce herself, since she already knew it. Kiki went silent for a moment before looking at her broom. She moved it around a bit and seemed to be testing the thickness. She must have been satisfied, because she gave a firm nod at it and turned to Mary. “Would you like to try flying with me?”

Mary’s eyes widened. “Fly? Is that...okay?”

The girl gave another nod, her red ribbon bouncing with the motion. “If you want to. This broom is my mom’s, so it should hold two pretty easy, especially since you’re pretty small….though, I don’t usually fly with two people, so it might be kinda bumpy.”

Most people wouldn’t want to get anywhere near that broom after hearing something like that, but Mary wasn’t like most. _I don’t want to make this harder for her...but, walking would be just as hard, and it would take longer, right?_

Or rather, that was the excuse she gave herself. The truth was, for some reason, she _really_ wanted to give it a try. “If you’re okay with it, I am too.”

Kiki lowered her broom and stepped over it, holding it at the ready. She turned to Mary. “Okay, just like this. And hold on tight.”

Mary moved behind her, feeling maybe a little silly, and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Like this?”

“Just like that.”

Mary was still for a tense few seconds as she waited for the broom to move, and when it did, it still managed to throw her off balance. If she hadn’t been holding onto the witch, she expected she would have slid right off the side. When they were only a few feet off the ground, Mary squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m going up higher now. Don’t let go.” _Yes_ , Mary thought, nervously to herself, _I would let go by choice._ But, of course, she didn’t voice her sarcasm aloud. And it was a good thing she hadn’t, because the wind flew passed her ears as Kiki took them up high and fast. 

Mary kept her eyelids closed until everything went steady, and when at last she opened them, she couldn’t help but exhale in amazement. “Wow….”

They weren’t high enough to hit the clouds, but they were much higher than Mary imagined they needed to be to reach a destination only streets away. The town was mostly dark, with a few lights here and there in houses, and the busy streets were much quieter. The architecture that Mary had found so odd was suddenly very beautiful from a bird’s eye view. “And you get to do this everyday…?”

She couldn’t see her face, but she could hear the smile in Kiki’s voice. “I’m not usually so high up, and sometimes the weather isn’t very nice, but...over all, yeah.”

Mary didn’t say much for awhile, but when she found her voice again, she asked quietly, “Have you always been a witch?”

“Mmhm. My mom is a witch too, and my grandma was before that. I’ve heard there are guy witches too, but I’ve never met any.” 

“Does your family have to be witches for you to be a witch?”

Kiki glanced over her shoulder at her. “I don’t know….I’ve never asked. But...I guess probably not. I mean, the first witches had to come from somewhere, right?” She faced forward again. “Although...I don’t know how you’d find out. I’ve known about magic forever, but how would someone know if they had magic if they never knew to try it?”

It wasn’t a question that she was expecting an answer for, and Mary gladly let the silence fall. _Magic, huh?_

She looked out at the open air again. So far she’d failed at everything she’d tried, but she had to be good at something, right?

“Kiki?”

“Mm?”

“I want to try magic.”


	3. Inevitable

Chapter 2: Inevitable

Kiki was so surprised that she nearly dropped them straight into the street. She straightened her broom and steadied them, looking back to make sure the girl still clinging to her wasn’t about to slide off.

Mary waited until the butterflies in her stomach settled before speaking to the little witch. “I guess that’s a bad idea…?”

Kiki shook her head back and forth. “No, no, it was just surprising. I hope you can.”

Mary nodded softly. “I’ll try finding out everything I can, but, would it be okay if I asked you questions sometimes?”

“Of course you can! I’ll help out as much as possible. I’ll still have deliveries to make, but if you want I can drop by sometimes. Or you can come by the bakery.”

“Do you live at the bakery?” Mary hadn’t seen the back area, but the thought of the store and their house being combined reminded her of a few places back home, though it wasn’t common. She looked at Kiki, trying to determine if she were related to Osono, but the only similarity she found was the choice of haircut.

Kiki started bringing them a little lower-slowly, this time-as she answered. “Osono was nice enough to let me stay there. I haven’t been in this town very long either.” She paused. “But you know, I’m not through with my own training, so I might not be very qualified to try teaching someone else magic.”

“Training?”

“Yeah,” Kiki started, “I came out here for a year of training, but besides getting better at flying, I haven’t accomplished much yet. I plan to learn other things too, but it turns out you can’t do much if you don’t have money to feed yourself.”

Mary’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve had to buy your own food and everything?” It wasn’t that she didn’t know what happened when people grew up, but Kiki couldn’t be old enough to only rely on herself.

The distress in Mary’s voice must have been obvious, because Kiki glanced over her shoulder at her. “It’s just part of my training. And if you manage some magic, you’ll probably need to do it too.” She gave the younger girl a smile. “But that wouldn’t be for awhile, I think you’re still pretty young, right?”

Mary deflated a bit at the comment. “I’m nearly eleven.” And she really did believe she was mature for her age. “How old are you?”

“Why, I’m nearly thirteen.” Kiki did her best mimic of the redhead’s manner of speech in a teasing tone, and while Mary scowled at the witch’s back in mock irritation; she knew the girl wasn’t being mean spirited.

When she was quiet for just a moment too long, Kiki turned again to see if she’d actually offended her. Instead, she found herself laughing at the exaggerated look on her face.

And while Mary found a smile making its way onto her face, she couldn’t help but think that while they really were close in age, they seemed to be miles apart in other ways. Kiki was a witch, for starters, and was clearly doing well on her own. It seemed she already knew her place in the world, and she seemed pretty content with it. And Mary? Well, Mary could barely manage anything at all.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When the two touched land, they were standing at a small opening in some rather dense trees. For some reason, a reason which neither girl had an idea of, the trees around the neighborhood seemed to nearly cocoon the houses inside. It was easy to see why there was no flying into it. Even if the broom were to fly beneath the branches, it would end up no higher than the houses around it.

If it were a little later at night, the place certainly would’ve looked ominous.

Fortunately, though they were late, it was still early for some families to sleep. Lights scattered in odd patterns peeked through windows along the street, giving just enough assistance to make walking in without stumbling around possible.

The two girls walked side by side, at a matched pace, as they walked to their destination. They stood in the middle of the road, because it was late, and the street was a dead end. And while they were mostly silent along the way, it was less because they were spooked, and more because they didn’t want to wake everyone.

At least, that’s what they both decided aloud.

Aunt Anne’s house was not at the end of the street, as Mary had slightly feared, but rather about halfway down, on the left side. The house was not large or glamorous, but it matched the other houses well enough. It was made from what looked like mismatched colors of gray brick, and while it held a second story, it was hidden from view by tree branches. Despite the upper level, the house was rather compact in width and seemed dwarfed by the surrounding yard.  
The yard in the front was left unfenced, and while it only extended to the street, the house itself was placed far enough back that it seemed to stretch much further than typical. Though, it may have only seemed large because it was barren of any decoration, which Mary had come to expect of houses.

It was easy to see beyond the sides of the house, and attached to what had to be the final edge of the house was a chain link fence. Mary found it very odd to have the front yard so open but have the back fenced in, as she came from an area where most houses had a single fence that circled their property entirely, or no fence at all.

She could also see that unlike the front, the backyard was not empty, but it was too dark to decipher any of it.

She turned to Kiki and realized that the place had not affected the witch as much as it affected her, and it was difficult to tell if it was because the house didn’t seem strange to her, or if it was because she wasn’t going to be living in it. “Do you want me to take that in?” Mary gestured to the delivery Kiki held.

The raven haired girl shook her head and started forward. “I’ll go to the door with you. I'll need to get a signature for it.” Mary had never had anything delivered before, but it still seemed odd to her. This must have shown on her face, as she continued, “It’s so I can keep track of everything, and so that if I’m making a delivery to someone that didn’t make the request themselves, I can show them the signature as proof the delivery was made.”

It was something Mary would never considered if she ran deliveries, and yet… “But...what do you do if they can’t write?”

Kiki paused and frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve never run into that problem. But I guess I’ll figure it out if it ever comes up.”

When the two stood at the front door, Mary knocked with as much force as possible. Kiki looked at her in shock when the banging occurred, and truthfully, it rang out much louder than Mary had expected. She’d intended to knock strongly to make sure her relative would hear her even if she had gone to bed, but it sounded more like she’d been trying to knock the door down.

She didn’t realize her mouth was hanging open until she swallowed thickly, mortified with herself. Not only had she probably scared poor Aunt Anne to death, she’d likely disturbed the entire neighborhood!

The redhead glanced to each side nervously, hoping no one woken from sleep came to investigate. A very long minute passed with no answer, and though Mary itched to knock again-if just to disappear from angry strangers-but she resisted the urge. If that knock hadn’t woken her Aunt Anne, nothing would.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When the door at last opened, Kiki was surprised to see an old woman that looked hardly a thing like Mary. Comparing the two, it was impossible to tell they were related. Where Mary’s nose was small and centered, the woman’s was long, and though not crooked, did slope more than most. Where Mary’s eyebrows were thick and full, the other had narrow scrunched close to her face.

The only similarities between them were their eyes and hair, though it was a stretch to say similar. Both had blue eyes, but they were of a completely different shade. Mary had bright blue eyes, and the wrinkled woman had a more subdued color that almost seemed grey. Both had red hair, of sorts. The old woman’s was hardly red anymore. It seemed like the vibrancy had been drained from it, leaving what might have once been scarlet to look more like the petals of a pink rose. It was still nice, of course, but the knowledge of what it could have been before made it a bit sad.

Thinking about it, maybe they were alike. This was an older version of Mary, or maybe a photo of an older Mary, faded by time.

What truly set them apart, however, were their expressions. Mary looked frozen, with wide eyes as she gave her caretaker a nervous wave. The old lady didn’t look disturbed from the overzealous knock, but her mouth was curved downwards in a scowl that made Kiki slightly worried for the younger girl. It wasn’t the features of their faces that she made note of, but that Mary seemed to have so much life to her.

It wasn’t until Kiki focused on the eyes encased in wrinkles that she caught the spark of amusement behind them, and decided Mary would be just fine.

“Um,” The young witch started, remembering she came for a reason, “This is for you, from the bakery.”

The old woman turned to look at her, and Kiki got the distinct feeling she was being appraised. Her delivery held in one hand, and her broom tucked behind her elbow to free up her other arm to search for the paper she was meant to sign.

After feeling the eyes on her for just long enough to make her uncomfortable, she managed to hold out the paper to the old woman. “If you could sign here…”

The woman shifted her eyes to the paper and began to sign it. “Mary, are you going to introduce me to the little witch?”

Both girls were a bit surprised at how fast she had realized Kiki was a witch, but it didn’t take Kiki long to remind herself that of _course_ she looked like a witch. It’s not like every delivery girl carried a broom around!

“Ah, this is Kiki. I met her on the way here.” Mary turned to the dark haired youth. “And this is my Great-Aunt Anne.”

Kiki attempted a curtsy that fell short of expectation because of all she was holding, but the old woman named Anne didn’t seem to mind and the corners of her lips twitched slightly upwards. “It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

The woman returned the sentiment with a nod and passed the paper back to Kiki, who in turn handed her the treats from Osono. Anne didn’t keep them for long though, as she gave them to Mary without glancing in her direction. Kiki noticed Mary fumble to keep them from tumbling to the ground, but somehow managed to keep hold of them. The look of relief from the redhead told Kiki that in most cases she would have dropped them.

Kiki turned her gaze back to the woman and noticed her eyes had never left her. Kiki shifted her broom to a more comfortable position after putting the signed paper away. “I should get home. I have to work in the bakery in the morning.” She turned her head toward Mary. “I’ll see you soon?”

Mary nodded and smiled. “I’ll come by the bakery sometime soon.”

Kiki gave her a wave, and despite insisting the neighborhood wasn’t good for flying, she hopped onto the broom and flew low to the ground. It wasn’t really likely that a car would come speeding down the street this late anyway, and she had an early morning to look forward to.

….Okay, so maybe the neighborhood was a little creepy. At least at night. Alone.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Kiki was out of sight, Mary turned to her Great-Aunt. “Um...Did I wake you?”

Aunt Anne gave her a side eye. “Of course you did. I’m surprised you didn’t wake everyone.” Mary blushed, but had no excuse to give. It wasn’t like she could tell her that she was afraid she wouldn’t hear her. Her Aunt continued, “But I should have told you my house echoes enough for a small knock to suffice. Of course, had I known you’d be arriving in the middle of the night…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, instead moving back into the house and gesturing for her to follow. Mary followed her Great-Aunt closely and closed the door behind them. Naturally, she didn’t think about what her Aunt had just told her and closed it normally. And normally to this house seemed to be quite loud because, as she’d stated, the noise seemed to echo around the entire room.  
Mary winced, but her relative didn’t scold her and only continued on to a hallway at the other end of the room. 

Mary, however, didn’t follow her to the hall. She was too busy staring at the room she’d found herself in. The front room had dark wooden floors and a deceptively high ceiling, from which a single light fixture cast shadows along the floor. The room was nearly baren of furniture with only a few chairs, including a rocking chair and a large plush chair almost hidden by the piles of books surrounding it. An unlit candle sat on a shelf just to the side of it, with enough wax dribbled on its sides to indicate it had been used very often.

Mary was half tempted to take a look at the books, but when she looked up to ask her Aunt if she’d mind, she realized she’d been left alone. Her Aunt had left her! “Aunt Anne…?” She knew that she had started into the hallway, and so she stepped into it as well, but there were a surprising amount of doors and she had no idea which one held her family.

Looking around the hallway, the cream colored walls held several pictures, though it was dimly lit and difficult to tell who was in them. The floor here was the same wood as the living room before it, but she could see that it extended much further than what she expected the house to have from the look of the front. _Perhaps it extends further in the back?_

She was certainly facing the back of the house, and while she had seen the sides of the house end where the back fence began, it wasn’t as though houses had never been oddly built. Although, the hallway was just wide enough that she had a hard time believing the rooms beyond the doors allowed for the house to be T-shaped. Curious, she stepped to the door closest to her right and very gently opened it. It wasn’t that she was worried about getting in trouble, because surely her Great-Aunt had nothing to hide, but because she didn’t want to cause anymore noise tonight.

Peering into the room Mary realized it was just a broom closet. Small enough, in fact, that if every room in the hall were the same size the structure of the house was no longer in doubt. What was bothering her now was that the room, despite holding various cleaning supplies on one side, held brooms on the other. Many brooms. A wooden bar with indents was fastened to the wall, and in each indent a brooms handle fit perfectly inside. The brooms were of different sizes, some much taller or thicker than others, and she wondered why in the world anyone would need what looked to be five or six different brooms.

She hoped that if she helped clean she wouldn’t be expected to clean each room with a specific broom, because she could already see herself messing that up. And considering the majority of the time she _didn’t_ see incident’s coming, she didn’t want to imagine the disaster that would occur if she _did_.

Before she realized it, she’d stepped fully into the room to inspect the differences of the brooms. All of them were taller than her, the shortest just a few inches below what Kiki’s broom had been. She guessed that would be the easiest for her to use in cleaning.

_But which would be best for flying?_

Mary wasn’t sure if you could pick up any broom and fly with it if you were a witch, or if you had to have special, magical brooms, but regardless she looked over the brooms and imagined herself flying on each, trying to decide which would be the best broom for a witch to be. It was doubtful her Aunt would let her take off with a broom for witch training, but it wasn’t impossible.

When she got to the end of the row her tow brushed against the handle of a broom that was set aside from the bar, and she turned to see a little broom in its own stand nestled into the corner. The broom was just slightly taller than she with thick bristles shielded by a pale pink cloth tied halfway down them. When the cloth met the handle a white band held it in place, and she touched the soft fabric and the thick band before noticing the markings.

The broomstick was engraved, though she couldn’t tell what it was engraved with, as the letters were certainly not English. She tilted her head from side to side to see if they’d make more sense from another angle before giving up and deciding to just get a closer look instead. She reached forward to take the broom from its stand and had nearly done so before the sound of a throat clearing startled her.

She whirled around in surprise, and in her haste her bag swung around and knocked directly into the solitary broom stand. The stand didn’t even try to hold itself upright and instead went crashing into the handle of the broom handle beside it, which caused a domino effect that left every broom handle swinging in unison. At least, until the final broom bounced against the wall and swung back too early, causing each to start clacking against each other instead.

Mary winced at all of the noise, but she hadn’t looked at what she’d caused for more than a moment before turning back to see her Great-Aunt gaping at the event. After what seemed to be an eternity of silence her Aunt stepped up to the brooms and grabbed the handle of the center-most one, holding it still. And somehow, after the brooms on either side hit her hand they slowed and became still. After only seconds the racket had at last stopped as all but the one farthest from them were back as they should be. The last one, however, hit the wall once more before falling off the stand and hitting the floor with a crash that echoed down the hall.

Mary and her Aunt both winced at the noise, and when her Aunt went to retrieve the rogue broom, Mary turned to right the single broom that she had used to cause the mess. However, what she found was that the broom was right back in its spot, upright and tucked into the corner as though it had never fallen to begin with.


End file.
